Chapter Four
There was no turning back. He could, but Jess would smack into the same wall of snow that was in front of him, and what was to his left and right. In every direction it was the same. Snow, whizzing through the air so fast he could feel the flakes begin to peel the exposed skin raw, and yet there were so many, the air seemed to be non-existent, as there was nothing but snow inside of it. The bandana covered his nose, but every breath sucked more flakes into the fabric, and as its thickness increased and the air was harder to find, Jess would brush the bandana clean, only for it to be fully caked a few breaths later.
He didn't know how many steps he had taken. Jess had left the cave with a count of each in his head, wanting to try to gauge his distance for the first mile, but somewhere near one hundred they became lost amidst the constant shrieks, as the sound of the wind was the only thing that could remain in his head. Another thought could be born, but it would only take another howl to wipe it completely out of his mind. There was one, however, that couldn't be erased, for it was the wind itself that hollered the words, and its every lash over his body issued a repeat. Jess was in danger. The same kind of caliber as if a gun was pointed to his head with his hands tied behind his back, just waiting for his enemy to pull the trigger. The snow didn't have to hold a gun to his temple. The snow was the weapon. With each step taken, Jess anticipated that the next blast could drop him, but just as if there was a man ready to gun him down, he wasn't going to fall easily.
Along with his surroundings, the time since he had left the cave had been swallowed into nothingness, but Jess couldn't help but shift his eyes upward into the blizzard's highest stretch, searching for the darkness. Likely it would come all at once, like a mouth puffing out a candle in a blackened room, but as long as there was still white around him, Jess knew reaching the ranch before the sudden switch was possible. Thin, but possible.
The trek started with more vigor than what he possessed now, yet Jess' feet hadn't stilled once, plodding through snow that was up to his knees that made an ache rise into his hips as he strained forward, but little by little the pain started to subside as a numb tingling took its place. Like the pain, he ignored the new sensation, even as its addition made his steps harder to take, but his brain continued to command them, his eyes continued to watch them, because if he suddenly stopped, that was when it could all be over.
Hearing a sharp cry that didn't seem to come from the storm, Jess whipped his head around, the lump on his horse's back unmoving, but he couldn't take the lack of movement as his final answer. Stopping his horse, Jess' hand traced through the snow that had hardened to a crust on Dowling's back, and slipping underneath the covering, his fingers pressed into the man's neck, but nothing audible slipped through the man's mouth. He was still alive, albeit unaware. Jess would have liked to think that was a good thing, but Dowling's thought-level at below zero, the man couldn't fight to stay alive. And yet, Jess knew the type of battle they were in was beyond muscular or strength of mind. There was no fighting this kind of storm. It was fighting them.
Stepping away from Dowling's limp frame, Jess brushed the snow away from Traveler's head, breaking the icicles that had formed on his bridle as his hand slid down his nose, the finish coming from his mount as the whicker came close to his ear. The cold stealing his breaths too much to open his mouth, Jess could speak nothing in return, but he passed the encouragement to Traveler in his touch, and then with a gentle tug on the reins, he returned to snow's broad and ominous face.
It looked the same as before. White, looming high and wide, the barren shade was like a suffocating blanket pressed all around him, but he had to keep walking into it or it really would smother him. Jess knew the harsh reality as truth, yet in the place where knowledge was stored, he had difficulty transferring the command down to his legs, making them resume the path he was breaking for Traveler, carrying a load that was a life. Finally getting the connection from his brain to his limb, his foot punched through the snow, the other following, but the movements seemed harder than before. All Jess had to do was point his finger at the snow depth to find the reason, but there would have been more accuracy if the point had shifted back to jab into his chest. But why stop there? This wasn't even his fault. Didn't the finger belong inside of another man's flesh?
There was a strong dose of truth weighing against his shoulder blades that if he would have heeded the offered advice and stayed at the ranch he would be in the total opposite conditions that he was in. Jess could be seated close to the fire, joking with Slim and Jonesy, swapping true and made-up tales of the olden days with Andy and eating his fill of something hot and comforting with a perpetual refill of his coffee cup. Instead, Jess was up to his knees in snow, getting whipped with unending lashes that was wind's version of stinging leather and for what, an outlaw wearing one of his bullets.
Maybe he needed the extra fuel to keep himself moving, but with each step that Jess took, he added anger to his core. He blamed the snow, he blamed the wind, but the biggest heap of guilt was thrown at the dad-gummed outlaw. It was a no-good, common horse thief that put him at the gates that led to death's door. The only thing preventing them from swinging wide was that the lock was frozen, but he didn't want to think that it would take the Almighty's hand to turn the key anyway, and not his, which had no power at all.
He shouldn't even be in this place with those muddled thoughts of looming death, risking his life for the kind of man that would shoot him down just to take his horse. Maybe he should have left him in the cave to succumb to his injuries. Wasn't that what he deserved? But then the thoughts of fury came crashing down. He couldn't. The call out of Dowling's lips carried faster and louder than what was flinging out of the north. Wouldn't Jess want someone to move heaven and earth if it was Slim's name coming out of his wounded lips? Jess knew the answer. He was the answer, and with each step that he took, Jess put the gift of mercy into action. All he needed was the same gift granted to him.
It was impossible to not keep his head bent in the opposite direction of the wind. He lifted it fully then, testing his bearings, and as he swung farther to the left, there his gaze was stopped. The snow at ground level was roughly two feet, but the image in front of him was starkly higher. The drifts were four, even five feet in places, making a bush that normally hugged the ground appear to a be bear standing on its hinds, and trees, they could have been Goliath dressed in wooly white. But where they were placed willy-nilly across the white surface, this was different. The line spread out, like a perfect design that had been carved by a majestic hand.
Jess knew he shouldn't linger, but he had to know what was underneath. Dropping his hand through the thick blanket, he startled when he touched something solid, its recognition along his fingertips instantaneous. Taking his hand further along the wood, Jess' fingers started to spread wide as the surface underneath had doubled in size, and something started to twitch underneath his bandana. Jess furiously attacked the snow, scratching away the frozen layer, and the revealing of the sign was like a beacon of light that could reach the depths of the weariest soul. The Sherman Ranch, painted at its boldest, was read with an exclamation point inside of his head. He made it.
He would have laughed if he wasn't crying. They weren't tears from bottled up emotions that had finally reached their peak, but it was the wind making his eyes water. Yet they still seemed invisible, as they were unable to glide down his face, for the droplets were whisked away as soon as they dripped free from his lashes, the crystals of ice lost among the blizzard's throes. But it didn't matter what his eyes produced, for the true feeling was radiating its own warmth where it counted the most. Elation meant hope was alive, but there was no time to revel in its glory, or it could disappear even quicker than how it had been born.
Jess would have liked to have felt the excitement that quickened his pulse be given as power to his legs, but it was the opposite. He was weaker, as the pieces of his strength had been left in each of his footsteps in the winding path from the cave at Pine Ridge, but at least now he had something to hold on to. As long as Jess kept the shrouded fence line to his right, he could stay in the right direction of home, but eventually that clear sign would fade away. Darkness would steal it if it met him first, but there was another obvious factor that couldn't be ignored. It told him he was within striking distance, yet it couldn't take him all the way, for this particular fence didn't reach the house.
The guiding line was gone now, and as it disappeared, a disoriented feeling wrapped around Jess' being, harder than what the wind could toss and seemed to thwart him on the wrong course. Even though he knew what it could do to him, Jess had to stop. Where was he now? The last fencepost was either a mile behind him or a hundred feet, it was simply somewhere behind him, yet Jess twisted his entire frame, the possibility that he would meet it in its middle again strong but then he gave a rough shake of his head. Circles would have been impossible to take. He had kept the wind to his left the entire journey and then once connected to the straight line, Jess had followed the guide until it veered south. The wind was still screaming from the north, biting his left ear until it felt like it was bleeding, which meant he was still going easterly.
Home had to be close. It had to be. And if it was, then there should be something familiar. Something! But there was nothing. Jess searched for a sign of a tree, a hillside, a gully, anything that would put a flash of lightning through his skull. The answer was the same as before. Nothing. He was lost. The truth tore at his flesh like the blizzard had been unleashed inside of his skin, screaming and laughing at him until he thought he would choke. A wrong turn somewhere past the fence line had put him off course and even though the mistake was recognized in full, there would be no turning back to start over.
The frustration mounted, giving way to fear's forceful bite, and as it sunk deeper into his flesh, it threw off his balance, and Jess' next step hit the snow at an awkward angle. Stumbling, Jess' hands naturally thrust forward to stop the fall from taking him through the depths and into the ground, but as the surface was nothing but snow, he couldn't prevent his landing. Both of his arms enveloped, the snow hit his chest, not bending to his weight but climbing his sides and as he felt the frozen layer that was the earth, the surrounding snow toppled onto his back. Only Jess' head stayed above the white stronghold.
Get up! Jess growled to himself, but he needed more than a cougar's snarl to raise him. Even a man threatening to blow him in half if he didn't find his feet in three seconds wouldn't get his legs to push hard enough to lift his body out of the heavy snow. He forced his hands to go flat against the surface, but as he looked at the outline of his gloves, Jess realized something was missing. The reins were no longer in his clasp. If only panic could have been put into his limbs, then Jess would have been on his feet in a moment's brilliant flash, but that level of alarm was only reserved for his insides. It burst through his veins, exploding in his chest with a hard thump, and as his head was able to move, Jess' blue sought beyond the position that could be his grave. And then with a similar smack across his middle, Jess lowered his gaze back to the ground.
Traveler had gone nowhere. If his horse had backed up by a span of a few feet, Jess would have never risen again. Turning his body in short shuffles, Jess' hand reached for the line that was draped in the snow, his fingers finding it, but only his eyes could tell him they had made contact, for they were too cold to feel anything other than cold. Closing his grip over the thin leather, Jess reached upward and as the horse's flesh met his palm, Jess started to rise. Making it to one knee, the snow began to drop from his body, and with the added weight being released from his back, Jess dug his fingers into a crusted mane, pulling him to his full height.
Thanks. It was simple and silent amidst his heavy pant, yet every bit of it was received.
Being close to Dowling's side, Jess knew he would have been amiss to not check his status. Not trusting his fingers to find the pulse, Jess lifted the edge of his bedroll that was caked in several inches of snow and bent his head to the man's face. The bare skin below his eyes felt the stream of air coming from Dowling's nose, and if that hadn't been enough evidence, the blast of cold air that threatened to peel the rest of the bedroll away from his face made the man's body shift. The muscles of his mount rippled at the change of position on his back, and as Jess replaced the bedroll shield, he gave a short nod. With nature's blanket on top and Traveler's body heat from below, he was being kept alive. His trek was still worthwhile. Just as long as in the end, the definition would be the same.
Jess turned, putting his back up against his mount, and seeing the hole his fall had made in the snow, the reminder of his predicament slapped him in the face. He was still lost. But knowing that the man behind him had life, Jess couldn't give up. Not when he had come so close. Yet if he was only a few feet from home's firelight and still missed the mark, then no matter how close meant nothing. He had to make it all the way.
His feet returning to motion, Jess struggled to get past the large divot, his knees threatening to drop back in its clasp as he pushed back into the white volume, but Jess' right leg found the ability to break through the wall. He startled when something else seemed to break, and as pain didn't shoot through his foot, Jess assumed it wasn't a bone, yet with another step taken, the crackle returned. Jess tried to understand, but his brain must be growing numb, for it couldn't put the glass-like feeling under his boots to make sense. Even if it was something other than another layer of snow there was nothing else he could do be keep trudging forward through it. But when something shifted beneath him, Jess brushed the snow from his lashes, the blink spreading to its widest blue, for the snow, the ground, everything was no longer beneath him.
The falls! Gone silent in their frozen state, Jess had been walking on top of the stream, almost stepping right off of their majestic tumble. Pulling in as deep of a breath as he could muster, Jess took a step backward and another at a sideways angle, the snow crumbling away to add to its depth that was too far below to see. Finally safe from taking an abrupt tumble, Jess shifted his body toward the north, directly in the wind's path. On a clear day he should be able to see the house's chimney and the barn's peak from his vantage point. It might have been hidden behind the snow, but it couldn't have been erased from the earth. He only had to set himself in the right direction and he couldn't miss it.
We're almost there, he told Traveler, and he didn't know if the horse could sense the barn's security, but there seemed to be a nose rising upward to give a thorough sniff as they traversed the route away from the waterfall. It might have been just wishful thinking in the short glances Jess gave his horse, but he saw it as something to follow, since there was nothing through scent that his own nose could obtain. He was barely getting anywhere through his limited eyesight.
And suddenly Jess could see nothing. It wasn't just growing dark with night's arrival. It was dark. All light, however minimal before, was completely gone, yet the white that was all around him wasn't shut off, for instead of it being black as sin, the blanket took on the shade of deep blue. Everything above that line, however, was gone. Jess shut his eyes, the sense of suffocation increasing with the dungeon-like walls pushing at him in every direction, but then he forced them back open. What now?
He had heard of people dying in blizzards a short distance from their homes. It seemed like a cruel fate, coming so far just to succumb a few feet from victory. Jess knew that he could either stay where he was and die, or keep going. It shouldn't have been a difficult answer to find, but Jess stood still for a moment to mull it. Yet the real man that built Jess Harper into his full character was ready to produce a kind of growl that could sway a person, even if that person was himself. All Jess had to do was instead of searching for a particular answer, he had to ask a profound question to get to it quicker. In all of his life's trials, had Jess ever given up before? Wasn't his heart beating inside of his chest evidence enough that he hadn't? If he did now, then it really would stop.
Just a little further. Jess convinced himself, the words of his soul getting his legs to move, but he would need close to a chapter of them to prevent him from stopping a final time. Gotta get a coupla more feet. Another step. Another. One more. Take another. Come on, Jess! Take another step! Dad-gummit, don't stop or you'll die. Take another step. But I can't… I can't make it. I can't… wait. Is that a… a light? Slim? Don't come looking for me, Pard. The risk's too big. I'll come to you. I reckon I can make it that far. Just a little further.
He followed the light, its ball growing larger with each step that he took. Jess figured that if he was off course once more and it wasn't the Sherman house he would take any other, even if he was met with a shotgun pointed right at his chest. The light meant warmth, hopefully food and coffee to heat where a flame couldn't reach, but there was more. The light meant life. And it was right in front of him.
There was no step up, only a step. He reached out a hand, expecting to touch the wall, but he wasn't close enough. His foot going forward without it rising, there was a strike of something hard and it bucked his body forward. It was his head that struck the door, the knock on the wood rising to the roof, shaking a portion of its heavy load free, and like an avalanche, it poured over Jess' body, flattening him to the surface where air couldn't exist.